


Icing

by Phnx



Series: Game On [2]
Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-14
Updated: 2012-09-14
Packaged: 2017-11-14 05:23:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phnx/pseuds/Phnx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The rematch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Icing

**Author's Note:**

> I had [initially attempted](http://phnx.dreamwidth.org/8657.html#cutid1) this as an entry to the Hikaru no Go Deathmatch's Round Five (theme: sweet), as a response to my entry for the fourth round (theme: sour). I wasn't very happy with that first draft, and I'm not yet certain as to how I feel about this revamped version; at the very least, though, I think it's a vast improvement over the other (but I probably should have ditched the icing thing now that it's no longer necessary for the fic to be sweetified).

\--

Saeki, with his pale, colourless hair and unblemished skin, seemed like he should be icing on a cake, all smooth and soft and deliciously sweet.

_Does he taste like butter cream?_ Ashiwara wondered, watching as Saeki flashed a small smile at one of his friends as he and a group of pros ambled toward the Ki-in’s cafeteria during their midgame break. _Like cream cheese, like marzipan?_

Saeki was always polite, too—not stiffly so, but rather the sort of polite which suggested that he was painfully aware of his own actions and the effects they may have on the people around him. Ashiwara had always previously considered this to be part of Saeki’s charm, gentle and subtle and _cute_. Now, having been on the receiving end of this careful— _deceptive_ —kindness, Ashiwara was forced to revaluate his previous judgement.

Saeki looked up from his conversation, and their eyes locked briefly. Ashiwara smiled brightly and gave a small wave, but made no move to approach the other man or shout out a greeting.

_After all—I wouldn’t want to be_ irritating _, would I?_

It wasn’t that Ashiwara wasn’t used to that particular adjective being applied to him on a regular basis; truth be told, he was more likely to actively encourage that opinion than not. And really, Ashiwara had been _trying_ to drive Saeki up the wall. He just hadn’t realized he’d been succeeding so well; indeed, he’d always thought that some part of Saeki revelled in the attention. It was embarrassing to have been so far off the mark—he hadn’t misread a game so completely since his insei days.

Especially not one that he’d invested in so dearly.

Ashiwara jumped slightly as someone settled down beside him on the bench. A small package of lemon drops appeared in front of him.

“You seemed a little gloomy,” Saeki said mildly. “I thought these might cheer you up.”

Ashiwara blinked. He hadn’t expected the next round to begin so quickly after the disaster of the last one. He’d been planning to back up, give Saeki time to regret his absence… He bit back a smile, cheeks going a little pink. Maybe Saeki was made of icing after all. Ashiwara wasn’t one for passing, but under these circumstances…

Saeki seemed to grow a little awkward at Ashiwara’s silence. “I never thought you’d be one for sour candy, though,” he continued uncertainly.

Poor, conscience-driven Saeki, letting his guilt box him in—and he didn’t even know that Ashiwara had overheard his criticisms! Ashiwara knew just how to respond to this.

“I’m not, really,” he said quietly, taking care to avert his eyes.

Saeki frowned. “Then why…”

“It sounded like fun?” Ashiwara couldn’t prevent his lips from turning up at the corners.

Saeki rolled his eyes and made to stand. “Next time, just invite me out to dinner or something—a _nearby_ dinner.” He froze, still in an awkward no-longer-seated-but-not-yet-standing crouch, his own words seeming to catch up with him only now that they’d already been spoken. Had he just been speaking in hypotheticals, presenting a calm alternative to make the craziness of their trip even more apparent, or had that been a Freudian Slip, hinting at hidden desires?

Not that it mattered; the move had already been played, after all.

Ashiwara sniggered, all signs of remorse completely dispelled. “I’m glad you agree; I was saving that for the next round. When are you going to pick me up?”

Saeki’s mouth worked noiselessly. The poor dear. Ashiwara decided to rescue him—or doom him, depending on the point of view. “Was that five?” he “responded,” picking a number at random. “That’s a little early, don’t you think? How about seven?”

“I—Well—Seven is… fine?”

“Great! I’ll see you then.” Ashiwara grabbed his belongings, making sure to scoop up the new bag of lemon drops as he did so.

Saeki was still in that ridiculous half-crouch. Hmm… Ashiwara was definitely winning the game, but perhaps this wasn’t the best way to leave the board; there were too many holes where Saeki could worm his way out and build up his territory again. A final attack, then, one so threatening that it would consume Saeki’s plans throughout their midgame break.

He smiled brightly at Saeki over his shoulder. “Saeki-kun? I promise I’ll try not to be so irritating this time.” He gave a conspiratory wink as Saeki sank back down into his seat, white faced.

Ashiwara smirked as he skipped away, dunking his head to hide it until he could transform it into a more characteristic grin. Saeki might not be made of icing, but he was certainly just as mouldable. 

END

**Author's Note:**

> I accidentally marked this as "Major Character Death" the first time around; this would have been the most anticlimactic work in the history of mislabelled fics. It was almost tempting to keep that up, just for the "Wait... what?" response.


End file.
